You know, people say they are stunned, shocked. On and on. A close personal friend of mine who is a lawyer in NYC responded to an e-mail I wrote asking for an opinion on Eliot Spitzer’s alleged dalliances like this, “A topic better discussed off-line.” No doubt. No doubt.
How many times do I have to write about how “rising star” is the kiss of death? About how expectations outgrow human nature, as does our fantastical desire for there to be a mortal we can call perfect?
The rising stars fall not because our expectations are too high or because they lack the ability to rise as high as we need them to or wish they will or think they can.
Rising stars fall because no one, no thing, can rise indefinitely. And the plateau or the fall or decline is all relative. But it is also inevitable. And people just refuse to remember this and adjust their hopes and expectations accordingly.
This doesn’t mean you can’t have hope or hope for hope or believe in hope. It only means that you shouldn’t walk around saying how shocked and betrayed you feel. You snowed yourself if you thought it wasn’t possible.
Rich Harwood writes about this in a similar way here in this piece about Spitzer, leaders and leadership.
On one level, Spitzer’s story is similar to that of many leaders in our society. We become infatuated with them, even begin to worship them, believe they can do no wrong, assigning them qualities and expectations that too often are not humanly possible to fulfill. Meantime, the leaders themselves, mere mortals, begin to believe they actually hold mythic powers, at times exercising them with abandonment and hubris, often leading to their own demise. All this reminds me of sundry fables about young wizards, who when they finally embrace their own individual power, fail to understand its true use, and especially its limitations.
On another level, the Spitzer saga makes me think about notions of “imperfection.” I often think that in our desire to ascribe mythic qualities to leaders, we forget — indeed, I think we actually seek to deny — the reality that we all, including our leaders, are imperfect. Thus when imperfections arise, we are ill-equipped to discern their true meaning to us. We want people to grovel or put forth false modesty when caught, or we want their heads. Room to gauge our failings gets squeezed out; we try to ignore the reality that human imperfection exists, until once more it is staring us right in the face and cannot be escaped.
Now, if Ohio Governor Ted Strickland were revealed to have used the Emperor’s Club, that would shock me. Because his personality and Spitzer’s could not be more different.
Frankly, Spitzer fits the profile of someone who did what he’s alleged to have done and got caught precisely.
Here are some experts on that, thrown in with some other commentary that has stood out to me:
Is he a sex addict?
Why does someone in such a visible and responsible position act in this way? Over the next few days you’ll hear plenty of psychologists, psychiatrists, and other mental health professionals give their sage perspectives.
But for all intents and purposes, no one can know why Governor Spitzer acted as he did, except the governor himself. As a matter of fact, it is against my code of ethics to state what the governor’s problem might be.
That’s because the reason that people stray away from their marriages are complex. One person may use extramarital sex to get back at a partner, another to escape obligations, a third to experience a thrill.
Read the rest of this entry »